


Patricia Minett's Curse

by RavenTheMind



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Sexual Situations, Casual Sex, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, For Science!, Magic, Magic Is Just Science We Don't Understand Yet, Multi, Mutant Reader, Mutual Non-Con, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Other, Pansexual Character, Porn With Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenTheMind/pseuds/RavenTheMind
Summary: You are Patricia Minett, and everyone who meets you loves you. Literally.A walking pheromone-factory, the masses trip over themselves to please you... and you want none of it. Though thrilling when first manifested, your mutant power has become a bane upon you. Your conscience can never allow you to take advantage of nor pursue those under your influence, and as such you find yourself alone. When S.H.I.E.L.D. seeks you out with a proposal, you leave behind a life of trying to hide from the world to being the face of the Avengers. Will you learn to control your power? With the world potentially at your feet, will you want to?This story is written in small chapters to make mobile reading easier. Obviously, due to its premise, it will contain dubious consent (used "rape" warning just in case.) This is fan-girl fodder, planned to build up to porn with plot. Your name is not used often, but I gave one for simplicity's sake (if it bothers you, the replace tool is your friend. :3.) Comments appreciated and suggestions welcomed. Let me know who your favorite character is, and I will definitely take it into consideration when writing! Also, you are 6 ft (1.8 m) tall b/c I am and all I find is short-gal POV. ;*





	1. Introductions, Round 1

You were painfully aware that the longer you were in the room, the more eyes turned to look upon you. As you crossed the lobby, gazes shifted with the swing of your hips and the stretch of your legs, averting as your eyes looked up from the notebook you'd been scribbling in. You had nothing of value to write in that moment, but to avoid meeting anyone's eyes, you'd filled the page with your name, written again and again while you walked: _Patricia Minett_ , Patricia Minett, **Patricia Minett**...

  
You approached the counter, a soft smile spreading across your lips, and politely addressed the gentleman behind it who was engrossed in his computer work. "Excuse me, I'm here for an interview."

  
The man looked up, the look of annoyance on his face quickly shifting to wonder as your eyes met. "Of course, miss," he said breathlessly, "I'll just need to see your identification."

  
"Sure thing," you said with an acquiescent nod, reaching into your purse and handing it over.

  
"Miss Minett," the man whispered reverently before handing it back. He blinked, clearing his throat. In a more professional tone, he spoke while indicating the elevators to the left of the lobby counter. "You're expected on floor 13... Miss Minett."

  
"Thank you," you said, rewarding him with a bright smile that left him staring after you in a daze as you made your way away from him and to the elevator doors. As they closed, he sighed. Then as if coming out of a trance, he jumped to his feet, startling those around him with a cry of "she's here!" shouted into his headpiece. Noticing the stares of the people in the lobby, the man sheepishly sat back down, his face bright red as he imagined what his superiors were thinking about his outburst.

  
Alone in the elevator, you pressed the button for the 13th floor and stepped back. As soon as the doors had closed and the floor began to move, your eyes grew wide.

  
You weren't going up, you were certain. In fact, you were going downward alarmingly quickly. Gripping the rail that lined the lift, you jammed the emergency stop button to no avail. This didn't feel like a free-fall, but more like a controlled drop, so while your heart quickened, you did not panic, only waited with bated breath to see where you were being dropped to.

  
You only had to wait a few more seconds before the gradual feeling of your weight fully settling back on the ground alerted you to the lift's stop. When the doors opened, you gasped, finding yourself face-to-face with a tall, blond man whose face you of course recognized. The man, though equally startled by your appearance before him, quickly recovered and smiled broadly at you.

  
"Well hello," he said, a glint in his eye as he took in the sight of you. You noticed a few immobile figures on the ground behind the hero.

  
"You're- you-" It was rare for you to be at a loss for words, but it was rarer indeed for you to bump into Earth-saving alien beefcakes. Your eyes darted over his arms, down his chest, then back up to his beautiful blue eyes. Despite your above-average height and your 2-inch heels, he was still slightly taller than you. "Is this- floor 13?" you asked as calmly as you could, raising your hand to your mouth nonchalantly to cover it in case you happened to be gaping.

  
"No, as a matter of fact," he said, stepping in beside you with a friendly grin and pressing the button for the ground floor.

  
You noticed that his foot tapped ever so slightly, his eyes darting down the hallway in front of you.

  
"Oh," was all you could muster. Where were you? Why was Thor- THE Thor... at the end of the hallway... running around the corner toward the elevator?

  
All you could do was stare, wide eyed, between one Thor jamming the ground floor button again and another bellowing from halfway down the long corridor "Wait! Hold the-" before the doors were closed.

  
Shocked, you looked to the Thor next to you as the elevator began its ascent. All was silent but for the calming elevator melody and the hum of the lift's movement. Thor stood staring forward for a few seconds, but finally glanced to you with a maddeningly casual grin and a nod of his head. You opened your mouth, but before you could say a word, his eyes widened and he threw himself forward against you, pressing you flat against the doors in an awkward position where your hands were bent backwards, trying not to touch his biceps.

  
"What-!" you gasped, face turning red at the closeness. Your question was answered as a crash violently rocked the lift and part of the floor where the man had been standing splintered, then the roof above it, as a humming blur busted through the small space. A few seconds passed, and you were just about to speak when the hum approached again, and with his arms around your waist he once more pulled you swiftly out of the projectile's course before it broke through the ceiling. This time, you glanced its blocky shape and the glint of metal over Thor's bare shoulder before it shot through the floor, and you recognized it. Mjolnir, the God of Thunder's signature weapon. You pulled your head back, eyes locking with your savior's in realization.

  
"You're not Thor, are you?"

  
Not-Thor grinned thinly, not releasing his grip on you, and said in an unfamiliar voice, "disappointed, are you?"

  
You blinked, then gasped, looking up at a face you had only seen in terrifying news broadcasts. "Loki-" you whispered, suddenly fearful, "but- they said you were-"

  
"They say a lot of things," he sneered through his grin, tightening his grip around your waist slightly. "For instance, do you know that there is no 13th floor?"

  
"I had... surmised as much," you responded. As your fear heightened, your powers strengthened. You could tell it in the way his hands loosened a bit, and his eyes, deep green and intelligent, softened. You could see the confusion in his face the moment after- he was wondering why he couldn't look away from your eyes, and why the thought of letting go of you was suddenly so difficult. You had seen it many times in the eyes of others, and it was all but meaningless to you now. However, this time your heart skipped as a lump formed in his throat that he had to attempt to swallow with a dry mouth.

  
That you could have such an effect on a man like this- so powerful, and terrifying, and, admittedly, beautiful- was thrilling.

  
You offered a shy half-smile, your best defense at the moment, and with a shaking breath asked "so... what was the next step in what I assume is an escape plan?"

  
He distractedly traced the outline of your lips with his gaze as you spoke, doubt creeping its way onto his features as he heard your words. His thin lips opened slowly with a hitched breath to respond, looking into your eyes-

  
Suddenly, the elevator stopped, sending you both tumbling against a wall, and the lights went out, submerging you in silent darkness.

  
Your chest heaved against his, your hands trembling. One of his arms was still wrapped around you, and you imagined that he was bracing you both against the wall with his other. The sound of metal wires and steel scraping steel could be heard outside the elevator car's walls. "Was this-" you began with a shaky voice, aware that your fear was certainly having an effect on him as his heart pounded against you and he hoarsely whispered "no. It was not."

  
A moment later, and a sliver of light shone through the elevator doors before the interior lights flickered back on and they slid open. For moments, neither of you moved.

  
"Um- maybe we should..?" you suggested quietly, tilting your head toward the door.

  
He seemed surprised that his arm still held onto you, but with a curt nod reluctantly let go.

  
You watched as he peeked his head to look out the doors, and a bit of relief shone on his face. Anxious to get out of the compromised elevator, you followed his lead as he stepped slowly out of the well-lit box into what looked like a dimly-lit warehouse.

  
The elevator doors closed behind you, the noise causing you both to jump and look at one another. No way to go but forward, you supposed, and he must have agreed because he grabbed your upper arm and said "come," pulling you along beside him as he cautiously made his way forward.

  
With no choice, you complied, hoping that your power would be enough to spare you the wrath of the god-like strength you'd witnessed Loki exhibit on the news. Thinking about what could happen to you caused a tremor of fear to course through you as you walked, but as it also caused Loki to look at you a moment, the concern in his eyes reassured you that he was still under your influence and would likely not harm you.

  
Seeing an exit to your left as you came to a huge T-intersection, you both hurried toward it, your heels clicking frantically to keep up with the urgent stride of the Asgardian's long legs.

  
"Loki," a strained voice called from behind you. "Let the lady go."

  
You both froze, Loki pulling you closer, like a shield in front of himself, and slowly turned to see who had addressed him. Expecting Iron Man, or War Machine, or really any heavily-armed individual, you were shocked to see just a bedraggled looking man, in loose fitting clothes and wild, dark curls, looking rather reluctant to be there, standing about 30 feet away from you.

  
"Ah- Banner," Loki responded boldly, surprising you by the contrast in his strong voice and his slight step backward. "They must be desperate if they're risking the release of one monster to stop another."

  
Undaunted, Banner grimaced, touching his fingers together in front of him. "I'm hoping it won't come to that," he responded somewhat nervously, looking at you in Loki's arms. "But the director thinks you're more of a threat than the other guy right now, so here we are."

  
At the mention of "the other guy," Loki tensed, pulling you closer in what you felt might have been a protective way that could have been equally for his own comfort.

  
You stood there a few tense moments, long enough for Banner to feel your effects from across the room. Now, his gaze had left Loki and he stared entranced at the lovely woman in Loki's arms, her eyes wide, confused, pleading...

  
"Don't worry, miss," he said comfortingly to you, raising his hands. "We've got everything under control."

  
"Do you?" Loki scoffed, taking a few pointed steps backward while refusing to relinquish his hostage.

  
The grimace on Banner's face remained, and his eyes flickered as he lowered his hands. "As a matter of fact..."

  
"Eeek!" you yelped as you were thrown forward by the force of something striking the back of your captor's head with a clang.

  
You toppled to the ground, and as you realized Loki's grip had left you scrambled out from under his weight and toward the man called Banner, who rushed forward to help you to your feet.

  
"Here, miss- are you alright?"

  
You took his hand instinctively, allowing him to help you, but before on your feet realized your mistake.

  
"Oh no," you whispered, looking up in time to see his pupils dilate.

  
The next moment, his lips crashed against yours, his hands on your shoulders clinging to you desperately.

  
This kiss lasted several moments, until someone cleared their throat deeply and it startled you both to look toward Loki, who still lied unmoving on the floor.

  
"You two... know each other?" questioned a voice that drew your eyes up to a tall, muscular figure standing behind the fallen god, who held the object that had felled said god: a round metal shield with a single star in its center.

  
Realizing that he was holding you down by your shoulders to his level- so that he had been able to kiss you, a stranger to himself- Banner released you with shaking hands, running one through his curly hair quickly as he stumbled backwards.

  
"Oh god- I'm- I'm so sorry-" he apologized, face reddening, looking from Captain America up into your eyes. "I don't know what came over me, I just-"

  
"It's okay, I-" you tried to say, but were interrupted with "no, no- it's not okay-! I don't even know you- do I..?" he looked at you hopefully, but before you could respond, continued, "No- we've never- and I-"

  
"But-!" you tried to interject again, but were this time spoken over by the star-spangled man with the plan (who looked like he'd just come from the gym, in grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, not at all how you remembered seeing him on t.v..)

  
"That was a heck of a kiss for two strangers," he observed, bemused. Banner immediately launched back into his jittery apology while the captain teasingly chastised him, looking very much like he was torn between laughing at and swinging at his friend. This continued for a moment, until you could stand no more of it.

  
"I'm a MUTANT!" you finally shouted over them, silencing both men, who looked at your in surprise.

  
"...What?" they questioned disbelievingly in unison.

  
"I- I'm-"

  
"Late for your interview," called another new voice from the direction of the red-lit exit. The three of you turned to see an eye-patched man in a long black jacket walking over to survey Loki's unconscious form. "But considering the circumstances, I don't think we'll hold it against you."

  
-.-.-.-

  
"As I'm sure you've by now suspected, you are here under false pretenses. This is not an interview for a 'lead sales position,' but I think we both know you could do better than convincing rich assholes that they need better... what was it you sell? Yachts?"

  
"Tri-Decks and Mega Yachts," you clarified quietly from the other side of the wooden table, not once looking the director in the eye. You'd had enough unwarranted attention to last, so were doing your best to control your nerves so as not to over-activate your power. Director Fury, however, was an intimidating man, and you knew he had to be feeling your effects. He was doing an excellent job concealing it, though, for which you were thankful.

  
"Right," he said with a chuckle, "party boats bigger than your apartment."

  
At this, you bristled. "I'm not interested in making a lot of money."

  
"We're aware, Miss Minett. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in commission yearly, and yet for some reason you're living in a one-bedroom flat. Why is that?"

  
"I- I'm more comfortable in small spaces," you said, choosing a vague truth over an outright lie. He couldn't understand. No one could.

  
"So you've invested the money? You must have quite the savings account," he said knowingly, prodding you.

  
You shrugged at this, lips pressed tightly together.

  
"Or maybe you're using your wealth to fund terrorist organizations?"

  
At this, you looked up, aghast at the accusation, and met his intense gaze. "I wouldn't-!"

  
"We've traced funds indirectly from you to a very dangerous group of men that has used said funding to attack civilian populations. Let's be honest here- you fit the description of a high-risk individual. A mutant with access to wealth via the ability to control minds-"

  
"I didn't fund anything! I gave the money away!" you finally cried, voice cracking, pounding your fists on the table and surprising yourself with your bold reaction.

  
His face deadpanned. "Really?" he asked, as though you'd just said something ridiculous. "You just gave away more than 3 million dollars in the past 5 years? Why?"

  
Your throat caught, unaware until that moment the exact amount and suddenly very uncertain as to the recipients of your charity. You took a shaky breath, tears forming in your eyes. "I- I-"

  
"I guess that's all we needed to know. Thank you for your time," he said with finality, standing from the table and heading for the door.

  
"I didn't deserve it," you whispered so quietly through your falling tears that you were sure the director couldn't hear you. You heard him stop, though, and didn't take your eyes off the table. "You're right- what I'm able to do, even if I can't control it- it's not fair. I could never know how much I actually earned and how much was given to me... just because I'm... So I donated everything over my base pay. I thought they were charities- I'm- so sorry!" At this, you put your head down into your arms, a sob escaping your despite your urgency to suppress it. You'd tried so hard to pretend you were normal, and in the end had been hurting people? You looked up just in time to see the director reaching out to touch your hand before you yanked yourself away. "Don't," you cried fearfully, but upon seeing the hurt in his eyes, likely due to your own stupid power, you explained "if you touch me, you'll..." you gulped, unsure how to explain, "lose control of yourself."

He nodded, stepping back as a grin spread across his face, "Well, Miss Minett. Let me just say that you've passed this interview with flying colors. I apologize for the continued deception, but we know that your money went to legitimate, charitable organizations. We had to know why, and how you'd react to the idea of causing public harm. I assure you, you've done nothing to warrant those tears, so once you've taken a moment to compose yourself, please join us in the next room to discuss your possible future with S.H.I.E.L.D.." At this, he strode toward the door again, stopping only when you called out through wiping your simultaneously relieved and astounded face, "What is it exactly that S.H.I.E.L.D. does, sir?"

  
"What shields are meant to do," he said, looking back as he opened the door. "Protect the people behind it."

  
-.-.-.-

  
Emerging from what you could only call the business-casual interrogation room, face freshly wiped and eyes only slightly pink from tears, you looked around your new space and froze in the doorway, hand on the frame, as you realized who was with you.

  
The Avengers. Spread throughout the room, which looked to be a lounge of sorts, they each looked up to regard you as they noticed your quiet entrance. They wore civilian clothes, but you recognized their faces. Black Widow, sporting a frosted, honey-blond pixie haircut in all her ass-kicking glory, stood to your left, leaning down next to the man you'd come to know as Banner, who averted your gaze with a pink tinge to his cheeks. Captain America, with whom you'd already become acquainted, nodded at you with an approving smile from his seat at a table. On the other side of the table, closest to where you stood, Tony Stark- Iron Man- sat facing away from you before turning his chair with his not-so-subtle appraisal of your figure before being the first to speak from his seat. "And here she is now, newest member of the team, everybody give a warm welcome!" He raised a glass in your direction before quickly downing its contents jovially with a flirty wink. Before you could speak, Widow had stepped in on your behalf.

  
"Back off, Tony, you know we don't have her answer, yet," she chastised, standing up straight and crossing her arms.

  
"But you will join us, will you not, Lady Minett?" came Thor's boisterous voice, and you looked at his bright smile, thinking suddenly about the feeling of your body against his, quickly remembering that you had not ever actually spoken to the real him, and...

  
"You threw the hammer at me!" you scolded indignantly, straightening up and allowing the door to close behind you.

  
"Yes," he said slowly, his grin fading, "and for that, I offer you my sincerest apologies, my lady. I had thought that you were an illusion created by my brother to trick me into holding back my fury. I am truly glad you were not harmed."

  
"I'm pretty sure I'm only alive because your brother kept me out of the way," you replied, hitting him with a hard stare.

  
Tony choked on his newly-poured drink. " _Reindeer Games_? Saved you from _Thor_?" He went silent, looking from you to an equally surprised Thor, before mouthing "WOW."

  
"It's because of my power," you clarified, voice strained. "I... attract people. It makes them amiable toward me. He likely felt an unnatural need to keep me safe."

  
At this, you directed yourself at Banner, who finally looked at you. "I'm sorry, Mr. Banner, for what happened. My fear seems to correlate with (what I've come to believe is) some pheromone in me, that travels by air and especially physical contact. I was distracted, and when I let you touch my hand, it was like some kind of drug entered your system and you were... overcome. What you felt- likely somewhat still feel- it's not real, and I'm sorry."

  
"You make people fall in love with you," he said slowly, relief on his features. Widow subtly squeezed his shoulder.

  
"Temporarily, as far as I can tell. I can't turn it off, but by controlling my fear, I can somewhat regulate it. Whether you all realize it or not, you're all under some of the effect right now-" you looked at Widow sheepishly, before adding, "even people who don't usually swing that way are effected."

  
"Really?" Stark said skeptically, brows raised. "Not feeling any unusual urges myself. Are you sure you're not just discovering your attraction to taller women, big guy?" He grinned teasingly at his friend, wiggling a brow. Banner was not amused.

  
You decided that in order for them to take your problem seriously, you'd have to prove a point, and the thought of doing so naturally activated your nervousness. Not enough, though, so some self-doubt was in order. _'He's Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Iron Man. The playboy's probably had every Victoria's Secret Angel and Playboy Bunny in his bed, which he probably designed himself to hover, and you have to seduce him and prove him wrong.'_ Alright, you were definitely nervous enough.

  
"Mr. Stark?" you called suddenly, directing all your attention on the man who turned to look at you. _'He's brilliant, he's charming, he's handsome, and he's stacking me up against every supermodel astrophysicist he's ever been with.'_ Your knees almost quaked, but you satisfied the urge with a small step forward and the friendliest smile you could muster. "Um- mind if I call you Tony?"

  
"Uh- I-" his eyes were wide, lost in yours suddenly, his pupils quite dilated. He swallowed, shaking his head slowly for a second as if to clear it, but never taking his eyes off yours. "That is- if... if, uh-"

  
"You can call me Patricia," you agreed in response to the unspoken question.

  
By now, all Avenger eyes watched your exchange in interest. Widow had been the first to catch on to what you were doing, grinning smugly at Tony, and the captain, cheeks and ears red once again, was peeking between his fingers in embarrassment.

  
It was silly- ridiculous, really- this small back-and-forth creating such tension. They could all feel it, though, like a humidity in the air.

  
"You're better looking than on t.v.," you admitted truthfully, a shy smile the icing on the cake that undid him.

  
Tony didn't realize that he was standing, hands shaking, mouth dry, until you said that and the quarter-full glass in his hand dropped to the floor with a jarring crash that caused him to jump.

  
Tony blinked, looking around at his amused compatriots, and coughed awkwardly, taking his seat again, a subtle redness coming to his face.

  
"Okay. Love powers. Got it," he said apologetically, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

  
Point proven, you took a breath, letting the grins directed at Tony turn your nervousness to equally apologetic relief.

  
"It must be nice," Banner started, but corrected himself, "convenient- rather- I guess. Having people trip over themselves for you."

  
You were silent a moment, unsure how to respond.

  
"I don't know, Bruce," commented Black Widow, who looked at the you sympathetically. "A simple emotion like fear, out of your control, causing involuntary bodily responses that then cause people to act irrationally toward you? Sounds more like a curse than a convenience."

  
The two exchanged a look, Bruce looking strained and Widow simultaneously sympathetic and stern.

  
"A good point," Bruce relented, adding in a quiet, animated mumble, "but people don't throw money and... and phone numbers at the other guy. Just bullets- if he's lucky."

  
"Who's the 'other guy?'" you finally asked. "You talked about him earlier, when..."

  
Bruce looked at you, and everyone else in the room looked at him, awaiting his response as a different tension began to surface in a brief silence.

  
The director, who you realized had been there all along by the wall furthest from you, came to Bruce's rescue.

  
"We can talk about the rest of the team later. Right now, you're supposed to be making a decision."

  
Arms crossed, he regarded you from across the room.

  
Looking around at the assembled heroes, you took a calming breath before responding.

 

"It was a good idea, Mr. Fury, to bring-" you paused, motioning meaningfully around the room. "Really effective- and, um-" _terrifying_ , your eyes said as you looked around again- " _inspiring_ and everything. I'll be honest... I don't know how my power can be worth all the effort. But if S.H.I.E.L.D. can use it to help people, and these guys trust you, then... I'll do my best."

 

-


	2. Call You When I'm Sober

Things were... going _well_ , you supposed, during the relocation to Avengers HQ, where you would be staying for your protection. Still hardly able to believe it, you were dressed in athletic pants and a t-shirt and were headed toward the training room where Black Widow would be waiting to begin preparing you for your first mission.

Since your arrival two days ago, you had barely seen any Avenger faces, and you were certain that they were understandably avoiding you.

Arriving at the room you'd been instructed to go, you pulled on the double doors, finding both locked. Hm.

Turning your head side to side, you saw no one in the corridor with you, but heard what sounded like a voice coming from further down. You checked your watch; to be fair, you were half an hour early for your meeting, so with a shrug you followed the sound of the voice.

"- and what if it goes horribly wrong, huh? We're already on their shit-list, we don't need- _yes_ -"

You recognized the voice as that of a strained Tony Stark before finding the room he was in, and when you saw him, his back was to you. He appeared to be alone.

"-it's not that. I've felt- _seen_ her in action, I know it works. But that's another thing! She sold yachts before this, she's not ready to-"

He turned to the side suddenly, maybe sensing you, maybe catching your reflection in something or hearing your breathing. You made no attempt to hide, knowing that there was little point as you had been standing in the middle of the opening, and your eyes locked with his over his shoulder.

"Hey, I gotta go," he said, turning his eyes away from you, and you realized he was talking into a phone in his ear.

"Is that something they teach in the sales business? How to eavesdrop on private conversations? Or is that just _you_?" he directed at you while facing the wall-size window to your right, his lip twitching.

"No," you answered, taken aback, before defensively quipping, "is talking loudly with the door open what all egotistical rich boys call 'private,' or is that just _you_?"

Agitated- embarrassed, maybe- he crossed his arms and shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his eyes flickering to you a few times before settling on the floor in front of you. "Did you need something?" he asked, hostility framing his question.

"I'm waiting for Black Widow," you said, leaning against the door frame. You could tell he was still upset about your last interaction because he was looking at everything but your eyes. You continued, not giving him a chance to speak before you had your say. This hostility angle was doing nothing good for your nerves, and it had to be resolved.

"You're right, though," you admitted, causing him to meet your gaze again. "About me. I don't know if I can do... whatever it is they want me to do. Everything going on... aliens and gods and alien-gods and..." you petered out, sighing, pushing off the doorway and crossing your arms. "I'm just a person. But I think the director knows what he's doing. I hope so, anyway, and that's good enough for me to try."

For a moment, you thought you saw what might have been respect in his eyes. He finally, reluctantly turned his body to face you, but again you interrupted before he could speak.

"And- I'm sorry for putting you on the spot in front of your team. You all needed to know how serious it is up front and some place safe... and out of everyone in that room, I figured if I could get someone with your reputation flustered, I'd make my best case."

He considered your words with a few thoughtful nods of his head, recrossing his arms and shifting his weight, looking this way and that.

"That was- a far more mature response than I had prepared myself for. I've got nothing- well," he paused, with an amused curl coming to his lips and a gleam to his eyes, "not _nothing_. I mean, you couldn't have known, but I think getting Fury hot and bothered would have been your best case. Or Natasha, if you _really_ wanted to get our attention."

Eyes wide at his sudden shift in demeanor and at the perverted insinuation, you laughed.

Grinning as well and casting his eyes down before looking back to you with a genuine mirth that reflected the relief you felt, he asked, "so... you really can't control it?"

"I can't willingly turn it off, or up, or down, but by manipulating my emotions I can sometimes direct it, usually at whatever scares me the most... another reason you were a good first target," you said sheepishly, unsure if the last part sounded really awkward or if it was something a celebrity had to be used to.

He scoffed, pretending to be hurt. "I'm gonna let that slide, because you're new, and don't yet know that I'm the nicest guy on the team. Maybe even the world."

"No offense, Mr. Stark, but-"

"Tony." It was his turn to interrupt.

You couldn't hide the surprise in your eyes nor the timid smile that followed, but nodded and corrected, "no offense, Tony, but even if you weren't- you know-" you gestured at him, "you, I haven't talked to many people about much other than deck specifications and nautical amenities in years. If I was asking you if you thought your yacht needed a tennis court or a matching limo tender, I'd be in complete control."

He chuckled, and you grinned as well, until he motioned you to have a seat at the table in the middle of the room.

"I don't know if that's..."

"If it's not, we've got, what- ten minutes tops until Natasha comes to collect you? How much trouble could we really get into before then?"

Your mouth hung slightly open, fully aware of just how much "trouble" could be gotten into in ten minutes but unable to find a way to say it. So you slowly made your way over and sat down, thankful that the table was at least as wide as you were tall so that the two of you had some space between you. You watched his pleased reaction, unable to help your nervousness at the precarious situation he surely knew he was putting himself in.

"So... my yacht could use another limo. Could I get it in hot-rod red? Flames on the side to make it go faster?"

You laughed, realizing that he was making an effort to keep you relaxed with the sudden ridiculous turn in conversation. Humor, you could work with.

"If only we could've had this talk a week ago. Do you know how long I'd've been employee of the month if I'd gotten Tony _freaking_ Stark as a regular buyer?"

"Well, do your best and I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. can arrange a plaque on the wall or something. Maybe even a statue."

You laughed freely at this, eyes glittering at the prospect, "sure. It has to be solid gold, though. None of that plated nonsense."

"Look who you're talking to!" he said with a humoring grin. "Only the best for this guy's team."

"I'm-" your breath hitched, hearing his last few words echo in your ears "-not a part of the team, yet. I don't know if I ever will be," you admitted doubtfully. "You guys are heroes. I'm just..." not sure how to end your statement, you simply said, " _me_."

There was a short silence after this, before eventually Tony spoke.

"Look... I'm not the guy to go to for inspirational speeches, but... If Cap. was here, I'm sure he'd say something like 'it's not what you've _done_ that makes you a hero, but what you're _willing_ to do.'" The seriousness in his tone and expression leant a heaviness to the moment, his brows drawn together and his eyes searching yours.

You glanced away, looking into yourself. What _were_ you willing to do? When push came to shove, if you were asked to make the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good, would you be strong enough to do it?

These were questions for another time, as you realized that you were growing more anxious than you thought you should be.

Looking back at the man across from you, you grimaced, finding that he had been studying your features with more than friendly interest. You desperately told yourself not to pay attention to how handsome he really was; how the corners of his lips, framed by his perfectly-trimmed goatee, curled back into that cocky oh-so-Stark smirk while his deep brown eyes seemed to reflect a sea of self-doubt...

"Um... thanks, Tony," you said, standing, realizing that your heart was racing. "I really appreciate the talk. I have to-"

"By my count, we've got five minutes left," he interrupted, standing as well. His intense, mesmerized gaze didn't leave you but for a moment to flash the table with an annoyed stare.

"I should go," you said, as calmly as you could, making your way toward the door. Why couldn't that disappointed, pleading look on his face mean something?

Tony mirrored your movement on the other side of the table, until you could go no further while still having the buffer between you. "Please stay," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion as though the thought of you leaving was too painful to bear.

"You're under my influence, Tony- what you think you're feeling, it's not real," you whispered, your trembling knees alerting you to the severity of your situation. You wanted it to be real- God, how you wanted the adoration in his eyes to be something you had earned. But it _wasn't_ , and you _hadn't_ , so you _couldn't_ -

"You have no idea how real it feels," he whispered, making your heart throb painfully.

"I don't," you agreed, your voice higher than intended, "but..." How could you make him understand..? Meeting his eyes with a hard stare, you said gently, "you're drunk, Tony, on something stronger than alcohol. You know it wouldn't be right."

Something seemed to click on his features, and he looked away thoughtfully, turmoil evident within him. His eyes flickered back to you and he stood up straight, clasping his hands together tightly to ground himself and blinking hard. "You're right," he said reluctantly. "You're... you're right," he repeated, more to assure himself of the fact.

Sensing a good time for an exit, you leaned toward the doorway. "I should-"

"Wait," he said again, and before you could sigh in frustration, he produced something from his pocket and held it up between two fingers for you to regard. It looked like a card of some sort. He slid it with a flick across the table, and you hesitantly picked it up.

"I don't expect _this_..." unsure of what to call the effect you had on him, he continued with a shake of his head, "it doesn't work over the phone, does it? And you said it wears off?"

You nodded, mouth dry. The card in your hand was in fact a business card, and it looked to have a personal number scrawled across it.

A satisfied nod, he put his hands in his pockets and took a few steps back, inclining his head toward the door. He forced a small smile to cover the pained frown on his lips for a moment before he said simply, "add it to your contacts. If I remember to... I'll call you when I'm sober."

-.-.-.-

 _Why are the doors still locked?_ you wondered aggravatedly, pushing on them again, knowing they would not yield. Were you even in the right place? It was five minutes past your appointment. What were you going to do..?!

Leaning your back against the wall to stare at your maddeningly inanimate adversaries, you silently willed them open- and like magic, one of them did begin to open. What- what- wha- oh. _Oh shit._

From the inside, Black Widow's blond head looked out into the hall in confusion, pushing the door further outwards as she realized you were there. That was when you finally glimpsed the "PULL" label, printed clear as day on the door handle.

"Um..." you mumbled lamely, "hey."

Looking to the doors and back to you, Widow began to smile, realizing what had probably happened. "Hey," she replied, thankfully making no comment about your silliness. "Come on in."

You did, taking a breath and looking about yourself. This was not a good start.

The "training room" was about what you expected it to be; a huge room, lined with gym equipment and containing a large mat in the center of it. There were no windows here, but mirrors on all the walls that gave you a momentary feeling of vertigo before you turned back to focus on the petite hero before you.

You towered over her, you realized, though you were fully aware that she could fell you in half a second if she chose to. She seemed to be waiting for you to speak first, so you did, difficult as it was to come up with any words while under her gaze.

"So... what's the plan?" _Wow_ , you thought to yourself, _smooth._

Deciding you could not leave it at that, you quickly added, "Director Fury didn't really tell me anything about what I'm supposed to be doing for you guys, so..." Not much better, but it was something.

"He's usually pretty up-front about his expectations," Widow responded, "and when he's not, he seems to have good reasons."

You nodded, and she continued.

"Today, though, he wants me to teach you some self-defense. Simple stuff," she added, seeing your hesitation. "Could come in handy when the word no doesn't."

So that was it. It was a good idea, then, and something you had honestly considered for a long time but had never had the courage to do. Aware of all the contact the training would entail, you had avoided it- however, she seemed to have taken your powers into consideration as she had dressed in long-sleeved underarmor and tights, even wearing a pair of gloves over her hands. All pieces simple and black, comfortably snug against her athletic curves, she looked like a half-ballerina, half-cat-burglar supermodel. You felt your inadequacy spike- and then she grabbed your wrist, slinging you toward the mat with a strength you couldn't believe came from her tiny form.

Caught off-guard, you tried to wrench away with a cry to no avail, and in the next moment, she had you pinned on your back on the ground, sitting on your abdomen and pinning your hands to your sides. Finding her beautiful face looking down at you, you swallowed.

"That's how easy it would be," she said shortly, before easily lifting herself off you.

Breathless, you stood up. "This- might not be a good idea," you said hoarsely.

She ignored you. "Try again," she said, grabbing you tightly by the same wrist before you could blink.

You tugged away, hard as you could, certain that your size would give you some advantage, but instead of meeting you with an opposing force, Widow allowed you to pull her, using the momentum to swing across your torso and wrap around you in a bear-hug from behind. With all your might, you twisted and writhed, even lifting her off the ground, but when it was apparent you could not free yourself, you grew still, defeated, and she released you.

She took several steps away from you as you turned around to face her, shifting on her shapely hips a few times as though she were the one in need of shaking off a hit. As she turned around, you noticed a slight flush to her cheeks.

"I'm not sure about all this adrenaline..." you mumbled, certain your face had to be red from not only the activity but also the intimate contact.

"Adrenaline is something you can't fight. It can be instrumental in survival. But if you let it control you, you will lose every time," she cautioned sternly before holding out her wrist. "Now you try and grab me."

You gulped, then took a breath, knowing she was probably right. Approaching cautiously, you eyed her tiny wrist. Then, you did as instructed, and in less than a second, she had snatched her arm free.

"Tighter," she demanded. "You're not going to hurt me." At this, the corners of her lips upturned slightly as she met your gaze, and even you wanted to laugh. Of course you weren't.

Again, you grabbed her, this time, as tightly as you felt you could, but the effort seemed wasted as again within half a moment she was free.

"Do you see what I'm doing that you didn't?" she asked, and after a moment, you shook your head, knowing that the embarrassment you felt at your failure was unfounded. You were being trained by the best, you assured yourself, and she was here to help, not judge you for the things you didn't already know.

She had you hold up your wrist and twist it, finding the angles where it could no longer twist any further. "This is where you want your opponent's arm to be. An inexperienced attacker won't focus on the movement, expecting you to pull away instead, and from that position their hold strength is minimized. Feel how your grip gets weaker the more I force your hand this way?"

You did.

For an hour you practiced simply escaping her various grabs and holds, and though tired at the end of it, you felt empowered.

"That was a good first lesson," Widow stated, giving you a rewarding smile as you both entered the gym's adjoining locker room. "Tomorrow will be harder."

You laughed, splashing water on your face from the sink as she opened up a locker behind you. "Great!" you joked, feeling about with your eyes closed for the towel you had seen hanging on the wall. Finding it, you continued with a silly grin, "cuffs and chains next, huh?"

As you patted your face dry, you heard her say playfully, "you think you're ready for that?"

Lowering your towel, your grin faltered, catching sight of her behind you in the mirror. Her brows were raised suggestively, a sexy smirk on her lips- and her shirt in her hand. Clearly she had intended on changing, and was now in only her tights and a sports bra. You gulped, averting your eyes not long after they had taken in her toned abs and slender, chiseled arms.

"Um... maybe not that..." you mumbled, begging the heat in your cheeks to subside. Thinking back on Tony's earlier suggestion about his female teammate did not help.

"Not something you're into?" she teased, obviously aware of and enjoying your discomfort as she turned away and unhooked her bra, exposing the entirety of her smooth back.

"I wouldn't know," you replied honestly, trying your best to not look her way too much. Avoiding it entirely was impossible, or so you told yourself, as your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. "I didn't have much of a chance to figure out what I was into before my power manifested, and after that..." Taking a few subtle steps to the side to cut off your view of her entirely, as she had begun to remove her tights and you could not trust your feelings to not go wild, you finished, "it wasn't an option."

"So- you haven't-" she began, obvious surprise in her voice.

"Would you?"

There was a silence for a long moment, and you turned to make sure she was still there. Bad idea.

She was facing you, thankfully now at least sporting a black tank-top... and panties.

"As a spy, there are a lot of things I've done that I never thought I'd do," she said, regret on her features showing a beautiful tenderness in her eyes you'd never seen before, "so I can't answer that... as truthfully as I'd like."

You had thought that her thin tights had left little to the imagination, but seeing her absolutely perfect legs and the sensual contour of her hips almost bare, realized your folly. The pleased smirk that alit her cherubic lips as she noticed your gaze caused your already racing heart to quicken.

"Is it something you want?" she asked suddenly, her question baffling you and drying out your mouth for a moment of her amusement until she clarified, "sex, I mean."

Oh. You shrugged dishonestly, looking away. Of course it was something you wanted- very, very badly sometimes. "It's something I can't have. I've gotten used to it," you said, your mind adding _"if you count making friends with romance novels and a vibrator as 'getting used to it.'"_

She didn't look like she was buying it when you glanced into her eyes, and- was she closer to you now than she had been?

"Maybe," she said quietly, boring into your soul with her meaningful gaze, "it's not something you have to go without."

"Widow," you choked, realizing her meaning, "you know what'll happen if..."

"I knew the risk when I agreed to train you," she responded. "I talked to Bruce about what happened even before seeing you work your magic on Tony."

"Are you two-" you began to ask, eyes widening in alarmed dread. _Had you kissed Black Widow's boyfriend?!_

"Not exactly," she admitted. "But we're close enough that he told me how it felt."

"I'm sure he hates me now," you sighed.

"Actually..." She paused, mixed emotions behind her eyes. "He admitted that if he got the chance- if you said yes, of course, because he's the biggest teddy bear you'll ever meet- he'd do it again."

"That was then. If you asked him now, I'm sure-"

"We talked about it this morning."

You blinked. You hadn't seen Bruce Banner since your interview- your effects had never lasted this long without repeated contact. "That's... weird."

"Is it?"

"I mean- I think so. He's not the first guy to throw himself at me, but they usually stop calling after a day or so, so I figured it just wore off."

"Well, whatever effect you had on him, he knows it wasn't your fault, and from what we can tell, he's... completely over it."

_But if that was true- why would he still want to..?_

Seeing the doubt in your eyes, she continued. "I've never seen him so relaxed as he's been these last few days. _Relaxed_ is a big deal for him."

Silent, you wondered vaguely what she meant but became more aware of the fact that she had been inching toward you without you noticing and was now only a couple feet away.

"Widow, I-"

She chuckled fondly at your formality. "You can call me Natasha."

You nodded. Wow, she was radiant when she laughed. This woman of such grace and strength and beauty, had she been blessed with your power, could have ruled the world...

And now she was inches from you, and your eyes were wide, and your chest was tight, and you should back away, or run, but your feet seemed glued to the floor-

"I want to try something," she whispered, her stunning green eyes boring into you with a serious gaze, and an obvious hitch to her breathing. A moment later, you felt a cold pressure against your palm and instinctively closed your hand, lifting into your line of sight what happened to be a gun.

Your heart leapt and you gasped, stepping backward, but she quickly explained, "tranquilizer. Hurts less than a bee sting, but causes nearly instant incapacitation... could come in handy when the word _no_ doesn't." There was something meaningfully stressed about her repetition of these words, and your eyes searched hers for clarity.

"Kiss me," she said simply, a flutter to her lashes and an inviting twitch of the corner of her lips.

"I can't do that to you, Natasha," you rasped back, finding your back against the wall, "you know I can't." Her next words, you never expected.

"I want to know what Bruce felt, Patricia-" she confessed, laying a gentle hand on your waist, and causing a tremble across your core, her sparkling eyes never leaving yours, "I planned this, and I _want_ this. And if you don't-" she raised the barrel of the tranq. gun, which by some miracle you had not dropped, to point at her own side, " _you can say no_."

-.-.-.-.-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Thanks for all the encouraging feedback, everybuddy!! :) **


	3. Spiders and Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Lots of life happening. Still writing. Don't give up on me. ;P This chapter rated M for sexxitimes.)

" _You can say no_ ," she had said with such simplicity, and now she stood still, practically flush with you. Her green eyes begged, her chest heaving as she paused for your reaction. How could you say anything when you couldn't breathe for long-neglected desire?

Her hand slid across the top of the gun slowly, slender fingers making their way toward your own exposed flesh. You should speak. Pull away. _Pull the trigger_.

Stop this before-

As her skin met yours, the desperation in your eyes was reflected back at you in her gaze for only a fleeting moment before she closed the gap between you.

Pressing her petite body firmly against yours, she slowly, intimately snaked her hands up the back of your shirt, the contact making you both tremble. You were still damp with sweat, and the cold air hitting your now-exposed back and stomach caused goosebumps to erupt across your core and down your limbs.

She smiled at this reaction, tracing her nails softly over the sensitive skin, and then digging her nails into you lightly she raised onto her tiptoes and captured your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

The tranquilizer gun clattered to the floor as your arms closed around her. _You were weak_ \- you thought, heart pounding in ashamed need as she groaned quietly and deepened the kiss in response to your action- so weak. In that moment, your eyes threatening to make tears and your body on fire, you decided with what few faculties were available to you that what would be would be. You wanted this- _God, how you wanted this_ \- and you desperately hoped that despite your power, Natasha really did, too.

A subtle nudge of her tongue against your lips made you gasp, and she readily explored the opening. Your eyes closed as your tongues danced, your head spinning with the smell of your combined sweat and her scented shampoo.

You hadn't noticed, but as Natasha's hands came from around you and slid down your arms to insistently press your hands more firmly against her, your eyes opened as you found that your grip had loosened and you were now holding her by her hips.

Sensing your hesitation, she broke the kiss and met your gaze. "Please, Patricia," she whispered, " _please_ touch me."

Only able to nod silently through your panting breaths, you slid your hands up under her shirt as she had done to you, hesitantly dragging them over her firm sides then around her back. Her eyes closed and she bit her lower lip as your fingers trailed up the crease of her spine, and her back arched, pressing her lower half longingly against yours with a moan. Again her lips were on yours, but whether you had initiated the kiss or she had, you could not tell. All you knew then was her soft skin pressing against you and your desperation for more of it.

She must have felt the same way, because her fingers found their way once again up the back of your shirt and in half a second had deftly unclasped your bra.

You gasped at his, and breaking the kiss gave her the moment she needed to begin to step back and pull her own shirt off. As if instinctively, your body moved to do the same with your own tee, and as you pulled it over your head and dropped it to the floor, you could not help but gape at the perfect form of woman in front of you and weakly fall back against the wall.

In only her black panties, she was a goddess. Her breasts, smaller than yours and flawlessly round, indicated her tremendous arousal with tiny pink buds erect.

She moved closer, her eyes raking over you, and though still in your bra, pants, and even shoes you felt awkwardly naked for a moment.

She laid her hands on your core, and you shivered as she purposefully led her caresses upward to the edge of your loosened bra whose straps had fallen down your shoulders. Taking the straps in her fingers, she slowly, reverently almost, lowered the garment and slid it off your arms, exposing your own aroused state.

"Oh, God-" Natasha said in a ragged, hushed whisper, eyes unable to leave your body, "God, I- I _need_ -" Unable to finish whatever she had meant to say, she closed the gap between you again, and as her porcelain breasts met your own, you moaned together in unison, closing your arms around one another.

The kiss that followed was ravenous, and both of you explored the body of the other with your hands, worshipping every tiny imperfection that broke the smoothness of untarnished flesh. Pulling back the tiniest bit but not enough to break the embrace of your tongues, Natasha grazed your sensitive nipples with her palms and a deep groan escaped you. Your reaction emboldened her, and she cupped your breasts in her hands, beginning a gentle, rhythmic flick of her thumbs against your buds, each time drawing a painful throb from your lower region and a gasping whine from your lips.

After one particularly loud gasp, you both heard what sounded like the training room door clattering closed.

"Natasha-" you whispered, heart racing and eyes wide as you stared at the locker room entrance, "we _have_ to stop- AH!"

In protest, she had taken each of your nipples between her fingers and pinched, and the throb that reverberated through your whole body made your knees go limp. You slid down the wall, and she quickly followed, moving onto her knees and leaning over you, her damp hair falling around her angelic face.

"We HAVE to-" you insisted panickedly, only to be silenced as the woman raised a slender finger to cover your mouth and her hot breath tickled your ear as she whispered:

"There's only one thing we _have_ to do right now."

As she finished her sentence, she firmly thrusted her upper thigh between your legs, applying a satisfying amount of pressure against your throbbing womanhood. You could not hold back a high-pitched moan as your eyes rolled back and your back arched needfully. Your hands scrambled about the floor as she ground against you, most of you only wanting to give in, but-

“-lo? _Hello?_ Anybody in here?”

The tranquilizer went off silently in your shaking hands, catching Natasha in the side, and as she went limp against you, you were filled with regret. Was it more regret for that which had transpired or that which had not? You could ask yourself later. Legs trembling, hands shaking, you sat the gun on the floor beside you and carefully rolled the hero over onto her back.

You stood, turned on one of the showers, and then propped one towel under Natasha’s head and with another covered her and her tranq. gun. Before you re-dressed, you quickly threw your head under the shower and then wrapped it up in another towel.

It all took you about a minute; your racing heart had not calmed in the least, nor had the moistness between your legs been dealt with, but you opened the door and put on your best “oh, there’s someone here!” face as you spotted- of course- Captain America, just beginning to sit down at one of the machines.

As he saw you stepping out of the locker room, he smiled, immediately standing back up. “Thought I heard someone in there. How’ve you been?”

You smiled back across the room, glad he was at least 30 feet away and hopefully unable to be effected by you for a minute or so. “Been alright. Settling in. Had my first training session with Wido- Natasha. She’s still in there.” You pointed lamely at the door, realizing that you were speaking quickly.

“Really?” he said, brows raising. He was probably used to people babbling at him, you assured yourself. “Natasha’s not one to coddle when it comes to sparring. How’re you holding up?”

Your chuckle was sincere, as was your response. “Got a few new bruises, but nothing’s broken… as far as I can tell.”

He laughed. “Well, I know from experience that you’re gonna be sore in the morning.”

The corners of your lips twitched. A moment later his eyes widened. “I mean- we’ve sparred before- obviously.” He was blushing before he finished his sentence.

You wanted very much to giggle at his bashful response to the accidental insinuation. Who would have thought that America’s favorite superhero was so shy?

Suddenly aware of your damp discomfort, you just smiled and said abruptly, “well, I’m headed out. See you later?”

“Sure,” he said with a nod, and a moment later you were out the door headed for your room.

Thankfully, you didn’t bump into anyone else and had made it back quickly. As you locked the door behind you, you let out a groan. Some “part of the team” you would be if you couldn’t keep your hands off your teammates. As you fell onto the plush, modern couch that looked upon a wall-sized “window” ( you assumed it was a projected view from an upper floor of the building above the underground complex you now called home,) you found that the sky had become dark grey. As if waiting for you to arrive, a light rain soon began to fall against the faux window, and as the minutes passed and you simply watched, the light rain became a heavy downpour.

“ _Fuck…_ ” you whispered, throwing the towel off your hair and leaning forward to drop your head into your hands, your swirling feelings summed up in the single word. You desperately hoped that what Natasha’d said had been true- that she had planned your encounter and had not made up the story on the spot while fueled by lustful feelings outside her control. And what if the Captain walked in and found her passed out on the floor? What if, in the end, Tony decided that enough was enough of your seduction and kicked you out for that? Did people get kicked out of SHEILD, or…

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden ping sound, and you snapped your head up to see a small red box on center of the window- er, projection- before you. “Hello?” it read.

“Um… hello?” you said hesitantly, not seeing a remote or anything nearby. Suddenly, the small box enlarged and became a video: it was Tony Stark.

As he saw you- you assumed he could see you, anyway- relief flooded his features. “Good- you’re safe. Stay in your room, keep the door locked. Building’s in lockdown.”

Before you could say anything in response, the video terminated and you were looking out over the rainy city again. Baffled, you leaned back in the couch, crossing your arms. Well… _that_ had happened. Maybe it happened a lot around here. _Shit_ -!

You suddenly stood. What if it was because they found Natasha, and thought someone else had..?! Not knowing what else to do, and unsure of how to contact anyone via… window, you decided to text Tony and ask for some simple clarification. You removed the card he had given you from your pocket, glad that it had not fallen out in the gym as you had forgotten its presence.

You turned to the counter, where you had left your cell phone plugged in when you had gone to meet Natasha. Only- it wasn’t there. The plug remained in the wall, but your phone was nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, you made your way over to the small kitchen area. Not on the floor, or either of the two barstools.

You moved behind the bar counter, looking on the floor, only now realizing how dark the room had gotten since the rain had picked up. You ducked down to see clearly, but finding nothing, stood again.

Your blood ran cold.

There was someone in the room, standing back to you only yards away, looking out the ‘window.’

Looking around yourself and seeing no alternative, you hoped that somehow the intruder didn’t know you were there and slowly began to move back around the counter toward the door.

“I believe that you were just told to _stay in your room_ ,” a familiar voice said clearly, startling you into dropping Tony’s card.

Your mouth was dry, incapable of communicating words even if you could think of any through the icy terror that gripped you.

The figure turned to face you, but even if it hadn’t you would have recognized that greater-than-thou tone: it was Loki, and he did not look happy. He waited only a moment before speaking again, a smirk coming to his lips.

“Be a good pet, and listen to your masters. Certainly they shall protect you.”

You darted for the exit, surprised that the Asgardian did not move to stop you until after unlocking it you found that it still would not budge.

“It seems though, that they do not trust you to obey them. What else have they neglected to _trust_ you with, I wonder?”

You spun back around to find that Loki had not moved, but was now grinning at you mockingly, hands held behind his back.

“What do you want?” you finally asked hoarsely, taking a step away from the door.

He thought about it for a moment before responding. “Initially, I had planned simply to break free of my shackles here. You’ve proven… a lingering distraction however, and I had to know why. Now I do, among other things. And though I do not take kindly to enchantment, I find myself… _curious_ enough that my plan has been altered.”

A bolt of lightening struck and thunder clapped as if on cue, and you were not the only one to tense at the sound, you noticed. A silence followed, before you took a chance on a weak smile and said, “if it makes a difference, I’m- um- sorry that I enchanted you- I didn’t-”

“You didn’t _intentionally_ do so. Yes, I know. I know everything SHEILD knows about you now- more than even you know.”

It had become glaringly obvious that he was egging you on to ask what it was that SHEILD was hiding from you. You would bite.

“Okay. So what did you come here to tell me?”

He lowered his hands to his sides. “Only that you are an unwitting pawn. More than that, I choose to keep to myself for now. Sit,” he commanded, motioning to the couch.

“I’d rather stand,” you said boldly, feet remaining firmly on the ground. Before your eyes, he seemed to disappear in an instant, and then you felt a pressure push roughly against your back, forcing you to stumble forward several steps.

“And I would rather you _sit_ ,” he hissed from behind you, and against his god-like strength, you begrudgingly acquiesced, taking a seat on the couch and hoping against hope that Tony would suddenly appear once again on your window screen.

Loki seemed to notice your longing glance at the window as he said standing over you, “don’t get your hopes up just yet, enchantress. Your masters are busy chasing my duplicate; they shan’t think to look in on you any time soon.”

Tired of the word, you growled, “they aren’t my masters. They’re my… _bosses_ , I guess.”

He laughed outright. “Call them what you will, _pet_. When you discover their plan for you, we’ll see what you’re calling them.”

This silenced you for a moment, your own curiosity nagging you. Maybe Loki really knew nothing at all, and was playing you. Or maybe… you shivered, doubt creeping in like a chill.

As he watched you think, Loki paced slowly back and forth, corners of his lips upturned at your discomfort. Finally, he came to a stop directly in front of you, and you pressed your back against the couch, hating the compromising position that he’d put you in but knowing that it made little difference if he indeed intended to harm you.

Your only chance was your power, which you were sure the Asgardian had to be feeling. You studied his face for any sign at all of doubt, but saw only the sharp eyes of a predator. You had noticed before and had thought little of it, but the man was handsome. He looked like a marble carving almost, with his pale skin and sharp, chiseled features. You found your heart quickening the longer he stared at you with that stony expression.

“Oh, I’m feeling your spell, certainly, pet,” Loki murmured with a chuckle, his strange ability to read you maddening. “I feel…” his hands twitched, his face contorting with emotion, “the urge to take you in my arms. To slide my hands slowly under your blouse…” As he spoke, his hands mimed the action.

Your face flushed and you squirmed, surprised by the sudden shift and feeling very exposed.

  
“I want to undress you. To worship your body. To take you gently, then roughly.”

You stared, mouth agape, as he lowered himself suddenly to your level, taking a knee and leaning forward. His face was impassable as he finished simply, “and _that_ is what I plan to do.”


	4. A Plan Doomed to Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This is a teaser for the coming chapter, also meant to alert readers to the completion of chapter 3! Stay tuned for the rest; don't underestimate my love for this project, I WILL NOT abandon it until I get at least all listed characters... erm… done to my... uh... satisfaction. ;P This chapter to be "Explicit.")

**CHAPTER PREVIEW** ( _If you did not finish chapter 3, go back!_ ) :

“You- you don’t want to do that,” you stammered, keenly aware that he likely did, in fact, want that very much. You couldn’t press yourself any further into the couch to draw away from the Asgardian prince who knelt before you.

He smiled- not a sinister smile, but one of real, unmocking, knowing amusement. His green eyes glittered through the semi-darkness. It was then that you noticed he was not wearing the green and black leather armor he had worn when taking you hostage, but rather a simple, buttoned, dark shirt (possibly green?) and black pants and shoes. You gulped, your heart pounding.

In any other circumstance, the scene before you would have seemed a dream. A fairytale. But you were staunchly aware that it was not- even if, as the lightening struck again and you caught sight of his sharp jaw’s shadow against his pale neck, he did look the part of a dark prince charming.

“We both know what I want,” he whispered, his smile wavering only for a moment as some unknowable thought crossed his mind. “I feel I’ve been _generously_ explicit. Won’t you return my _uncharacteristic_ candor with some honesty of your own, and tell me… what is it that the long-unfulfilled enchantress wants?”


End file.
